


Visiting Hours

by Vex_ation



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures
Genre: F/M, Prison, interpol sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vex_ation/pseuds/Vex_ation
Summary: Apparently, Interpol's mission to arrest and bring to justice all of Team Plasma's members extends even to harmless twelve year old girls who help save the world. And though they are farther apart than they've ever been, Hugh finds himself growing closer than ever to Whitley with each passing day.
Relationships: Hyuu | Hugh/Whi-Two | Whitley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Visiting Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storm_aurora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_aurora/gifts).



> I used Specord's unofficial name for Hugh's little sister in this fic-- her name is Val!

Going to school the day after the region was frozen by a giant ice dragon god of olde felt so bizarre, but also so very Unovan. Apparently taking down genocidal megalomaniacs and reviving ancient cults was only enough to warrant one day off-- or maybe that was just the consequence of such a rigorous school schedule. Though Cheren was trying to make the class easy for a while in the midst of all the recovery and adjustment, Hugh found his mind wandering. He found it much easier to stare at the door or window and ponder everything that happened than pay attention to Cheren’s teachings. 

Whitley, as it turned out, was a member of Team Plasma (not that he would snitch to Interpol, however, since he knew how good of a person Whitley was inside after everything she had done), Lack was even stranger than he initially expected, the rock was actually Unova’s technical champion, and no one seemed to be bothered about being frozen in ice for hours. Perhaps most importantly, though, he had managed to save his sister’s Purrloin after so many years. He had actually managed to complete his goal  _ and _ take down Team Plasma in the span of a few hours even if it wasn’t exactly how he had imagined it. So much had changed that Hugh found it impossible to pay attention-- plus the strange shadows shifting outside the door seemed far more interesting, especially because they were a relatively new addition to the grounds. Something was off about them, but unfortunately Hugh didn’t have the authority to go jumping out of windows to find out. 

It was in the middle of type matchups that Hugh noticed someone behind the door and felt the dread really kick him. Whoever it was, they weren’t a student-- students were half the size of whatever lay in the hallway-- and all his classmates were accounted for. Before Hugh could ask who exactly this was, however, the door slammed open with a resounding bang that made Cheren drop his chalk and many of his classmates shriek in fright. It was hard for a moment to understand what was going on as whoever was outside forced their way in. Hugh felt an overwhelming presence on all sides, suffocating him and making him want to fight. In an instant there were two men in trenchcoats in the room, one talking to Cheren and attempting to calm him down as the other marched towards the line of desks. Both were huge, hulking things, more Machamp than man, and their glare sent chills down Hugh’s spine. He found himself frozen to the spot as he heard the words “Team Plasma” and “arrest” and finally “Whitley” and then suddenly there was a commotion to his left as Hugh’s heart plummeted to the floor. 

Finally over the initial shock, Whitley leapt out of her chair with a speed and fear unlike anything Hugh had ever seen, launching her chair to the ground and scrambling over desks and bookbags and people as she made a frantic sprint for the door. Suddenly, Pokemon leapt from the shadows, a Sawk appearing seemingly from nowhere and punching her hard in the stomach. One of the officers rushed forward-- far faster than he should have-- and grabbed Whitley’s head, slamming it onto Hugh’s desk and pulling her arms behind her back before anyone could do anything. For a brief moment there was nothing, Hugh staring at his friend in mute horror and paralyzed in the surprise of it all. Every single one of his classmates stared at them with wide, fearful eyes. Cheren finally found his voice. 

“W… What in the world do you think you’re doing? Unhand my student  _ immediately _ ,” he shouted. 

“With all due respect, Mr. Cheren, this child is a fugitive and former member of Team Plasma. The Interpol’s operative to bring Plasma to justice requires that she be incarcerated before she or Team Plasma can do any more damage to this institution.”

Whitley looked small and incredibly frail crushed onto Hugh’s desk. Her head was bent to the side, her tears pooling around her cheek as she struggled uselessly against his might. The agent’s massive hand nearly swallowed her head, and for a moment Hugh swore that a single push in the wrong direction would snap her little neck. This felt so… wrong. Whitley may have been in Team Plasma, but she helped to stop Ghetsis! She helped fight Kyurem and save all of Unova! Such savagery didn’t feel like justice-- it felt like cruelty. Whitley tried again to squirm out of the agent’s reach, only to cry out in pain when he tightened his grip. As the Sawk finished fastening the handcuffs around her wrists, Hugh finally found his voice and cried out in shock. Whitley, it seemed, had completely given up. Around him, his classmates stood paralyzed, Cheren’s yelling and attempts to force his way past the Interpol agents echoed around the room. 

“Stop! STOP!!!” Hugh called, pushing himself out of his seat and racing after Cheren as the agents dragged Whitley away. By now, she was too exhausted or too scared to fight back, allowing herself to be pulled away like a ragdoll by two men twice her size. Their agents pushed back the student and teacher as they roared and snarled and clawed their way towards Whitley as she disappeared within their unmarked van and was driven away quickly and without fanfare. Both pokemon immediately let the boys go, leaving them to stand there in shock and the immeasurable silence that weighed on the school grounds. 

Cheren hung his head, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Come back inside, Hugh.”

Hugh just stood there, staring at the street as the Pokemon walked away. He couldn’t fathom the idea of going back into the aftermath of everything, to face his classmates and the empty desk where she used to sit, and have to finish the day when the only thing running through his head was the fear shining in her eyes as she pleaded with him silently to just please help her. Hugh blinked, feeling the same sort of hopelessness he did when he lost Val’s Purrloin, and slowly walked inside. When he came back in the classroom, Cheren gave him a sad, sympathetic look. 

On his way to his desk, Hugh walked past Lack, who was staring at him with a blank but eerily intense gaze. Hugh glared back at him, but Lack said nothing. Eventually, as Hugh found his seat, Lack looked down at his desk. Strangely enough, despite the upheaval and horror of the past five minutes, Lack seemed… satisfied. 

\--

The detention center waiting room was easily the most depressing place Hugh had ever found himself in. Everything was grey, from the walls to the floors, and briefly Hugh wondered if he had been in there for minutes or hours, since for some strange reason Interpol didn’t think that clocks were a necessary expense. All his belongings were confiscated by Interpol as soon as he walked in the gates, which also seemed strange but understandable, since this was a prison after all. 

_ Prison _ . The word sounded strange on Hugh’s tongue, with a weight to it that made him shiver. He was in a prison waiting room because his friend was in prison, a criminal. How do you make sense of that at twelve years old? 

Eventually, a door opened. A burly, scary looking man, the same kind that had arrested Whitley in the first place, was standing in the doorframe. He said Hugh’s name once, staring right at him, and didn’t seem to blink even as Hugh cautiously followed him. Hugh was not afraid of many things, but Interpol was absolutely terrifying. They had this weirdly emotionless reaction to just about everything, pursuing only justice at any cost. They were sneaky, suspicious, and scary, but they didn’t seem to think of themselves that way. He could only wonder what someone like Whitley would ever do to deserve this. That was the only thing he could think about as the agent led Hugh down the hallway and into another blank, bare room with a chair and a huge concrete and glass wall separating him from the person on the other side. Sitting silently on the chair on the other side, Whitley didn’t look up. 

The neon pink jumpsuit she was wearing looked hopelessly unflattering, the bright colors making her already pale skin seem sickly in the harsh light and accentuating the redness of her face and puffy eyes. She had obviously been crying recently, and Hugh couldn’t help but feel his heart ache. Gone were the traces of confidence he had seen during the showdown against Ghetsis. All he could see now was the girl from the first day of class, hunched over in fear and looking around like something would steal her away in the shadows. Perhaps it was the massive baggy suit or the lack of a specific angry mushroom on her head, but Whitley looked smaller than before, as though a slight breeze would shatter her to pieces. Hugh leaned in towards the grates, trying to smile for her. 

“Hi Whitley,” he said. “I brought you notes from class but the guards took it, so… sorry about that.”

Whitley sniffled. “I- it’s ok. They send me the note; Cheren makes me some videos too. The guards watch me when I do my schoolwork, but I’m still almost going to school.”

A long and awkward silence stretched between them. Whitley broke their gaze, staring shyly at the floor. What exactly do you say to someone you watched get arrested? 

“I wanted to thank you,” Hugh said suddenly. “For everything. Thank you for helping to stop Ghetsis and save Unova and get back my sister’s Purrloin. I… owe you a lot. If there’s anything I can do, let me know. I want to make it up to you somehow.”

“Um… Whitley wrung her long hair in her hands, staring at the table. 

“Can you promise to… um… visit sometimes? I- i- can’t see my mom or any of the sages and… and the guards took Foongy away, so I just want someone to talk to i- if you can.”

Whitley’s voice wasn’t more than a whisper by the time she finished, and Hugh was filled with the overwhelming urge to punch through the glass and wrap her in a hug and tell her everything was gonna be fine even if he knew it wasn’t. How  _ dare _ they lock her up like that when she had saved all their lives? How dare they lock her up when she had done so much for others; for Pokemon, for Unova, for  _ him _ ? Even though he knew he wouldn’t win, he vaguely wanted to challenge the guards to a battle and kick their asses, rescuing Whitley in a dramatic show of power and friendship. He would have to settle for words instead-- unfortunately for him he wasn’t quite great at those. 

Hugh put his hand on the glass, giving her the biggest smile he could muster. “I promise.” 

Whitley slowly moved her hand to match his, pressing it against the glass, and there they stayed for a whole half hour as they talked and talked. By the end of Whitley’s scheduled free time, Hugh found himself already opening up, telling her all about Val’s Purrloin and how happy they were to be reunited. They talked about the subjects in school they were best at and the nicest places to visit in Unova and a million other things, so by the time Hugh left he knew Whitley’s favorite Pokemon (Foongy) and her favorite color (sky blue) and that she was a little nervous about coming to school but ended up making a lot of friends. He let some things slip about himself too-- more than he probably should have, but oh well. That just gave them more to talk about next time. 

The thought of it made him smile. 

-

Weirdly enough, Hugh found the most exciting part of his day to be talking to a literal prisoner. Every day he would show up like clockwork, giving dirty looks to the guards and sitting in the same chair in the waiting room in anticipation of his half hour of conversation with Whitley. He could only imagine how much he infuriated the guards, but that was arguably part of the fun. Every day, he got to watch Whitley open up. She looked into his eyes more, laughed a little louder, leaned in and talked more excitedly. To him, she was a lot like a flower-- slowly blooming and more beautiful with each passing day. They talked about prison, about Team Plasma, about school and battling and all the things they would do when she got out. All through it, Hugh wanted nothing more than to just take her hands in his. And then she told him something that made him realize just how much everything had changed. 

“What do you miss most?” he asked on a whim. Admittedly, he didn’t know much of anything about what Whitley did before the conflict-- he only knew how stressed out he made her and how shy and suspicious she seemed. Her answer shouldn’t have come as a surprise, and yet it still made Hugh’s stomach twist in knots. 

“I want to see Foongy again, if he’s still out there. I miss him a lot,” she admitted. Hugh just sat there, unable to keep himself from frowning. He felt the same anger now as he did when he thought about Val’s Purrloin-- how dare someone take away a trainer’s precious Pokemon? Foongy meant everything to Whitley, and knowing that she was in the dark about where Foongy was or who he was with made him enraged beyond reason. Before he could respond, however, he heard the familiar buzzer and watched as someone appeared to take Whitley back to her cell. Whitley just sighed in acceptance, giving a small wave and smile to Hugh that made his heart race. It was then he realized what he had to do. 

The next day, Hugh was missing from the waiting room. Whitley waited as the hours ticked by, hoping that maybe he was just late, but there was no one. Free time came and went and there was no Hugh. A part of her wondered if perhaps he wouldn’t be coming at all anymore, but she quickly shook off the thought. Hugh wouldn’t do that… right? 

The next day, long before Hugh was scheduled to arrive, the guards handed her a letter. It had very obviously been torn open-- all mail she received had to be thoroughly checked as part of protocol-- but the picture inside was still intact. 

“He’s ok and can’t wait for you to be released” was scrawled on the picture’s corner in sharpie, but taking up most of the frame was Foongy, who looked surprisingly content sitting on Hugh’s head. She couldn’t help but smile at the change in temperament. The fact that he would go out of his way like this… it made her heart sing. The feeling was new, but she felt like she liked it. 

Hugh arrived later that day, immediately apologizing for his mysterious absence but earning a hand on the glass from Whitley-- it was like their version of a hug. Though Whitley couldn’t quite find the words, Hugh was thrilled to see how thankful and happy she looked.

Admittedly, finding Foongy wasn’t very difficult. Hugh simply called White, who seemingly knew everyone, and asked her if she knew where Foongy could have gone. She said she would ‘talk to her people’ and find him as soon as she could. The next morning, White called to say that Foongy was found safe and currently in her apartment. Lack came into school that day with a black eye, and a tiny part of Hugh wondered if both things were related. From there, it was just a matter of getting to Floccesy Town and back, which made him miss their daily session. 

Luckily, Whitley seemed understanding, and so they chatted the rest of the day about Hugh’s adventures and Whitley’s love for her Pokemon. Hugh wondered how anyone could doubt her love, how anyone could look at this actual saint of a girl and see anything but an angel. A few years ago he might have bemoaned it, but now he found himself surprisingly ok with the fact that yes, he was head-over-heels in love with a Team Plasma member. If Whitley asked him to run halfway across the world to help her reunite with her pokemon, he would do it in a heartbeat. It was admittedly a little scary… but as long as it was for her he knew it was worth it. 

With a friend to talk to, Whitley’s release day came faster than Hugh could have expected. Now, he didn’t have to meet her behind that glass wall. He didn’t have to hear her garbled voice through the microphone or wonder how people that were so close could be so far apart. Finally, she didn’t have to wear that pink jumpsuit or wear her hair down without a single clip. Whitley, at long last, was out of Interpol’s grasp, which meant the two of them weren’t restricted by free time or guards or anything else. They could just be  _ them _ . 

Hugh had to fight the urge to run up and hug her. They promised to meet in a park-- somewhere nice and lush and green and as far from the disgusting grey rooms as possible. As expected, they both arrived right on time, Hugh in the same outfit Whitley remembered and herself in the t-shirt and shorts she had been dreaming about wearing for so long. Her hair was back in buns, and finally she could smell the forest and feel the breeze and enjoy the sun shining down on her. The only thing different, however, was the basket Hugh was holding and the mushroom on his head. 

Foongy leapt into Whitley’s arms immediately, and she couldn’t help but notice Hugh’s loving smile as she nuzzled her favorite pokemon close. As Foongy climbed to the top of her visor, she peered curiously at the basket-- and then she realized what was in it. There were stuffed animals, boxes of mac and cheese, books and crayons and postcards… it was everything Whitley had talked about with Hugh. Every one of her favorite things, the things she told him she missed about the outside… he had been listening and paying attention just so he could surprise her with all of it on her first day out. Whitley found herself overwhelmed with gratitude and shock as Hugh, smiling, held it out for her. 

“I- is all of this for me?” she asked, trying not to cry. Hugh shook his head. 

“There’s one more thing,” he admitted, silently placing his hand up. Whitley smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. She put her hand up to match his just like they had done on the glass every time he visited-- but this time it was different. She could feel the calluses on his fingers, he could feel the softness of hers. He could feel just how cold her hands were and she could feel how warm his fingertips were. There was no glass wall separating them, no Interpol or Team Plasma or world-ending conflict to stop them from slowly interlocking their fingers and holding hands. Hugh smiled at her, a softness and vulnerability in his eyes like nothing Whitley had ever seen. Squeezing her hand comfortingly, Hugh closed the distance between them and locked their lips together, because now that Whitley was free from Interpol and Plasma and the confines of her past, nothing could ever separate them. 


End file.
